Dreaming Of You
by divaonstage
Summary: this is my 1st posted story. m/r of course.i just want to see what people think.it was originally a gift for someone so if there are details that seem strange to you they make sense to us...i swear
1. the present is an empty space between th...

A/n: hey! ::waves:: I fixed this a little after I was notified that my paragraphs were all screwy. Thank you to whoever the reviewer was because I didn't know, something funky happened. So yah, thanks! I have more chapters to upload but don't want to do it until there may be a little more interest in the story, if any. So let me know and I'll update (hopefully I can figure it out to get everything right this time.I don't promise anything.  
  
Unfortunately these lovely characters and all other amazing works that come across in this story are not mine.  
  
June 8th, 1979 - the day the love of my life was born. Sixteen years after that day I realized it. It happened in the winter months of my junior year in high school. A friend of mine introduced us and we instantly clicked. We had the same taste in music, movies, and had similar thoughts and opinions. I swear we would have been together from that moment on if there was not such a huge challenge---literally. He lived in a different state. We mailed each other as much as we could afford stamps. Occasionally we even spoke on the phone for hours, without our parents knowing of the long distance of course. We went through sporadic but too often of times where we did not talk for months. Let me tell you, they were agonizing, but the reuniting was memorable.  
  
He was the only one who even remotely cared about what I was feeling, when I actually told him. Even then I was stubborn. But on top of that he actually *understood*. It was then I realized that we shared something deeper, more intense. I realized what that feeling was when I discovered some things about myself. I knew that Mark was bisexual from the start, he was very open and proud about it. in a sense I always knew I was too. "Tear down the walls, aren't we all?" that is what Mark constantly said. I guess you could call it his philosophy in life. I should have figured it out when I was more attracted to my girlfriend at the time's brother than I was to her. I just pushed it out of my mind and said it was all part of growing up. All that doesn't matter now. Mark is in my life. The one that I dreamt about, laughed with, and even possibly cried over is finally here in real life. Getting to this point wasn't easy though. We decided as best friends at this point that we would live together as "bohemians" in good ol' NYC.  
  
Meeting him for the first time.no emotion is strong enough to describe how I actually felt. Over time I developed a strong attraction to him but never told him of course. I never even admitted it to myself. . I had a band, friends, girlfriends, and a good sex life.why would I screw that up and let people know I was gay? I wish I did. I was more confused about my sexuality than him. I would have rather wanted to be with a guy but when I was with girls I was certainly turned on. It screwed with my head. I denied it and denied it for years because I was afraid and mostly didn't want to be rejected by Mark. I'd never had a relationship with another guy but I don't need to know what its like in order to know that it was always Mark that I wanted. It was him in my dreams and that is the only thing they were at the time. He never even knew that I considered dating guys. So I did what I thought I had to do and threw away whatever it was that I felt for him until the day that we first met eye to eye. I picked him up at his house in Scarsdale with nothing more than my guitar in the back seat of my shitty car. I rang the doorbell of the two-story house. I have never felt so nervous in my life. I almost passed out right then while waiting to see him finally. It was seriously magical when he opened the door after what seemed like forever. All of the fear and anxiety was replaced with awe stricken excitement. I still remember it perfectly; me stumbling over my words, him fidgeting with his hands, it is still so clear.  
  
"M-Mark?" I stuttered.  
  
"Hey Roge." He responded to calm. I don't know how he stayed so cool, I could hardly breathe! It was then I noticed I was being videotaped and that made me smile to cover up how uncomfortable I felt.  
  
"You never do leave that camera do you?" He looked at me and laughed while picking up his bags by the door.  
  
"Nope, I told you the truth.well most of it." That last part was mumbled but I didn't even notice it at the time due to my concentration on him just *being* there.  
  
We left and I took his two small bags and shoved them into the back seat accompanying my guitar case. I got into the driver seat and glanced at mark sitting timidly with his camera and hands on his lap. A heavy wave made its way through my body and that was when I knew. This was definitely love.  
  
Over time the feelings grew for him even more. I had girlfriends to get rid of any suspicion there may have been. I loved them so much, I won't deny that. As cliché as it sounds I just wasn't complete. The one who I really wanted to be with I didn't think I could. I have never been so wrong. 


	2. only time can tell

A/n: chapter 2 is bleh. I don't really like it at all but it was needed. It's kind of an abstract sort of way to think about roger's whole situation but it was what was in my mind at the time. ::shrugs:: I dunno.  
  
Mark and Maureen. Shit, that was gross. Seeing them together; touching, ugh. It made my stomach churn. That is probably why I couldn't stand her for so long. The thought of her being the one to make him happy instead of me enraged me. They were together a year, a year too long if you ask me. He was infatuated with her, and she.well, was just using him.  
  
I couldn't take it anymore. I did something I know I shouldn't have. I went out, got drunk and slept with some girl who ended up staying with me. We became junkies together. Well, she already was and got me into it. From there, it was about three months before we both ended up with AIDS. We don't actually know who got it from who. She told me on a post-it note next to a puddle of her blood and her body in my bathroom. I shut down. Everyone thought it was because I lost her, or I had AIDS. That was so far from the truth. It was the thought of having to put such a burden on Mark. I knew he would end up taking care of me and he didn't deserve that. I was right too. Him staying with me every moment of the day when he thought I was depressed about April or the fact that I was going to die. It wasn't dying that I was afraid of. It was the threat of leaving Mark. I had so much more to do and say to him.  
  
Finally-to my happiness-Maureen realized she would rather screw with women's minds and bodies instead of my Marks. Then was my moment to tell him how I felt. How better of a way to let him know than through a song. I finally decided that was what my "one song glory" would be about when Mimi knocked on my door. When she interrupted my brainstorming for Mark's perfect song, she also interrupted my whole planned out goal. I would play his song at my gig, that he would be at like always and then tell him the reason I wrote it. Instead, I took this intrusion as a sign that it just is not meant to happen. To begin with, I was bitter about the girl until I welcomed it, as I was giving up all hope on Mark and me. Dammit, he was still 'in love' with his drama queen anyway and wouldn't think of wanting ME at the time. So I let Mimi into my life and we shared great times; when she wasn't with Benny. That's what happened to end our relationship. About a month after her near death experience my jealousy and her lack of devotion led to us being no more than friends. It was mutual, and better off this way. My mind was never fully into 'us' anyway. I found my song, too, just not the one I wanted to. Now I can.I'm going to ask him to give a relationship a try. I'm actually starting to feel some mutual vibes from him here and there. There are a few hints I've picked up on; (I'm not as stupid as most think I am). Like for instance, two, straight, male friends wrestle-happens all of the time. However, this wrestling usually leads to Mark stopping and locking himself in his room for about twenty minutes.  
  
Now is time to tell him no matter how scared I am. If everything works out as planned and I'm right about this then it will be the most amazing night of our lives and our future. 


	3. now i'm sitting on the beach and i'm wai...

A/n: thank you for the reviews! They make me happy and persuade me to post some more. This chapter is the one I have had the most fun with since I started writing M/R. I was at my beach house in CT when I came up with the idea and I HAD to use it. I'm the biggest dork too ::laughs:: I took pictures on the beach where I picture this scene taking place, so anyone wants to visualize it let me know. I know.I'm pathetic and damn proud of it. So yah, they still aren't my characters. The only thing that is mine is the song lyrics that I'm still trying to come up with the accompaniment to on my guitar. ::wishes she could be as talented as roger::  
  
  
  
"Breathe in, breathe out, breathe in, PASS out."  
  
July 8th, 2002. Mark is turning twenty-two and this is my surprise to him. It could make him either a very happy man or make him run away. However, I'm pretty confident for a person who is so insecure to begin with. We are sitting in the car I borrowed from Joanne. She knows all about this, and I like her, I trust she won't say anything yet.  
  
"Roger, where the hell are you taking me?" He keeps asking. We have been in the car for about two hours; we're almost there. "Will you stop being so damn impatient?!" I have to do my best to disguise the shakiness in my voice. "We are almost there. Here." I hand him a blue bandana. "Put this over your eyes." I don't want him to see any of the street signs. He looks at me strange. My stomach flips and I laugh a nervous laugh.  
  
"Oh don't MAKE me pull this car over! Put.it.on." I stay as sarcastic as I usually am so he suspects nothing. He finally puts it on and I start to get even more anxious.  
  
"Why are we here? You said you never wanted to come back to Connecticut first of all, and second of all we have never celebrated birthdays for as long as we have known each other." I can tell he is getting nervous too because of the way he fidgets with his hands. Curiousity has started to take over.  
  
"Well I make a few acceptions, and it's about time we start celebrating." Phew, covered that one up nicely. Mark shakes his head and it stays silent. I get off on the exit that I'm supposed to and from there it's not far. 'Holy shit, oh my god, fuck.' Those three phrases kept on repeating themselves in my mind. After what took close to forever I pull into a parking spot.  
  
"Finally." He comments. "Don't even THINK about taking that thing off. Stay here."  
  
I step out of my side and go around to help him out. I open his door and grab him by the elbow as he steps out. "Waves are crashing and it smells like fish. What the fuck are we doing here?" He persists to ask. I go to the trunk to get some stuff out along with my guitar and his tripod. The camera is in his hand of course. I grab his arm again as my heart is about to burst through my chest. "Come on." I insist as I it gets more difficult to walk on the sand. I think he gave up on asking questions, too, because it was quiet other than the waves, crickets, and our feet plowing through the grains of sand. It is dark other than the slight moon and stars. The night is the way it should be in early July; clear, blue, and moderate with a slight breeze. We stop and he stays standing while I put down the blanket (a sheet from my bed), a thermos (it's Collins'), and my guitar. I then set up his tripod when he starts with the questions again.  
  
"Can I take this off now? If I'm missing something good that I could be filming I'm not gonna be too happy." he threatens.  
  
Instead of arguing my case I take the camera from his hand and set it up, turning it on. It just hit me that I'm only assuming this will go well. My stomach flips all over again but the sea breeze soothes me. This is the moment. Screw all of the odds that are against me. It's now or never, I'm going for now. I untie the bandana over his eyes from behind him. He opens his eyelids and rubs them, blinking a few times. Looking down on everything set up, then to the water crashing, and sky, eventually toward me. He suddenly looks even more scared and confused.  
  
"Roge.? What's going on?" I swallow hard and sit on the sheet, he follows. He looks at me curiously and fidgets again. My first instinct is to hold his hands steady, so I do it. He isn't pulling away. That is a good sign. I begin my explination:  
  
"Mark, remember when we were younger, what.seventeen?" He nods his head slowly. I continue: "You went to the beach one time with your cousin in Long Island or something and loved it. It was all you talked about. You had never been before, and as far as I know you haven't gone since." He shakes his head signaling that I was right. "About a week later when you told me about it you mentioned that someday you wanted to spend a beautiful, romantic, sappy, night lying on the beach with someone who loves you."  
  
His jaw almost drops and I squeeze his hands tighter. "I-I don't' kno-" He stutters until I stop him by putting two of my fingers to his lips. "Please, don't say anything yet. Just give me another minute before you decide anything." I let go of his hands and open my guitar case, taking it into my lap. I clear the lump in my throat and play the first twelve notes to "Happy Birthday" before I start the song that I should have written for him years ago. I close my eyes and sing.  
  
"The one who takes me away Cures every pain with his eyes and soft touch Smiles to force my heart to beat faster Occupies my mind through the day In dreams. I want you to be the one for me."  
  
I feel his hand being placed on my knee as a shiver runs through me. I keep my eyes shut in fear of loosing concentration if I look at him. I sing again.  
  
"The one to be there when you need a heart To sleep in their arms each night To cry with, to talk to, to laugh with, to hold you To bring back your spirits when they seem lost forever To kiss you To love you Please let me be the one."  
  
I end the song with the remainder of the "happy birthday" melody. I slowly open my eyes and meet Mark's. Even in the darkness I can see the moisture in them. His hand is still lying on my leg so I pick it up and put into my own shaking hands. His are so soft and cold where as mine are rough and warm. Perfect match.  
  
He smiles and his glance never parts with mine. There are so many things I wanted to say and tell him how I have loved him for years. Right now it wasn't appropriate. Actions speak louder than words. I slowly inch my face closer to his and close my eyes after studying his precious face. Our lips brush lightly and we both pull back to look at each other again before I persist on making my dreams reality. I lean in again and kiss him more confidently this time. These small but passionate kisses go on for about a minute before we stop. I open my eyes first to see him looking so peaceful with his lips still slightly parted. I have never felt this completely happy and well.in love.  
  
He opens his eyes and I smile at him, running my fingers over his cheekbone. "What are you thinking?" I needed to ask. "I-I'm-well-um." He stumbles over his attempt at a sentence. "So I did a good thing?" I say to loosen things up a bit. He nods and we both laugh. I pick up the thermos and take off the top placing it next to him. "It's your favorite mix of coffee and hot chocolate. Happy birthday." He looks like he is about to cry. 'Please let that be a good thing.' My worries subside when he smiles and eventually speaks.  
  
"What am I going to do with you Davis?" he shrugs and I laugh, leaning back onto my hands. "I think that's your call now, Cohen." He chuckles this time rising to his knees in front of me. Before I know it his sweet, moist lips are on mine and I am being pushed to the ground. After a while we mutually break apart. He rests his head on my chest as I stroke his hair, both of us looking at the stars.  
  
"Roger?" "Yeah?" I respond. "I love you too. I always have." I kiss his head and lye back down, still caressing his face with one hand and his arm with the other. Never before have I known anything for sure, until now. This is the way my life was meant to turn out. We fit together perfectly; just like coffee and hot chocolate.  
  
A/n: The whole coffee/hot chocolate thing.As I said this story is a gift for someone and coffee and hot chocolate is a thing with her so I included it in the story. 


	4. everything ive ever done ive done becaus...

A/n: oh I'm so happy I've gotten good reviews! It makes my day! I have one more chapter written after this and then after that I will have to find time to write more cause I love writing this story. Don't get too used to the sap though.a story should have conflict so unfortunately I must add it ::frowns:: although in my mind all m/r is one big happy life but I suppose they're human too.well, close enough! Still the works of Jonathan Larson. Oh! And last cpt's title I got from a song by Cary Shields and this cpt is by Matt Caplan.  
  
Marks P.O.V.  
  
"Well it's about god-damned time." He shoots me a look after a near twenty minutes of silence. He appears confused when I look up, gazing into his dark brown eyes.  
  
"What d'you mean?" His deep gorgeous voice echoes in the crisp salty air. He rubs the back of my head. How does he know how much I love that? Sounds stupid, I know, but it gives me a sense of security. I finally answer him when I regain reality.  
  
"I wish you told me earlier that you were gay, or at least wanted to try kissing a guy." I giggle, am I seriously this giddy when I'm in love?  
  
"I didn't wa-" he stops mid word. "How did you know?!?" He sounds flustered, knowing Roger he is probably thinking 'is it that obvious? Do other people know?' I just have to laugh at him; he is too cute to let go. He sits up nearly throwing me off him. I regain my balance and pull my knees up to my chest.  
  
"It's called gaydar honey, you should have it by now too." I started laughing when I thought of how much this was not like Roger. He was not the stereotypical gay male, or as flamboyant as me (sometimes I catch myself). But I knew that he was interested or "questioning" by the way he rustled my hair or pats me on the back at times.  
  
He tried to protest but I gave him a look that says, "face it, I'm right." "You coulda said something too you know." I look at him and raise my eyebrows. That was hardly a defense.  
  
"And make a fool of myself? No, I'm pathetic Roger, you know that, you make fun of me all the time." I look down but see him vaguely. He is looking at me, hurt.  
  
"You're not pathetic, Mark." He tries to fight for me, against me. This ought to be good. "Damnit Mark, I'm sorry, I was only kidding. If you could only realize how amazing you are and what you do for us all! If it weren't for you our 'community' we, YOU, created would have been dead years ago."  
  
The sincerity in his voice is remarkable. I knew Roger was a great person but I have never seen this side of him. I loved it, along with everything else about the perfect musician.  
  
He picks up my hand, sitting across from me. "Is this okay?" He makes sure. Like he really needs to ask? I nod.  
  
"If only see what I see Mark. If we all had a quarter of your talent, looks, and personality we would be as close to perfect as possible."  
  
Wow, I never knew this man, my best friend, was capable of this. He puts his hand on the back of my neck. A series of shivers run through me.  
  
"I love you." He whispers while closing in on my lips but I stop him before they make contact. He moves back with a twinge of fear in his eyes.  
  
I feel I have to explain. He has poured his whole heart out to me in the past thirty minutes. Now he needs to know what I feel. I place my hands gently on top of his.  
  
"Thank you.for loving me this much. Ever since I was in school, I could not concentrate on work. I spent too much time imagining what it would be like to kiss you." I cannot believe I am admitting my pitiful boyhood. "I admired you for so long, hell I still do. You're beautiful Roger, you know that?" He blushes, so do I. Even in the dark, I can tell.  
  
"You could have anyone you want." I take a deep breath, not wanting to finish this. I just want to hold him and have him hold me, but I cannot keep my insecurities to myself that I have had for years. "Which is why I don't think you should be with me. I'm just.Mark and you should-"  
  
"Stop Mark." I pretend not to hear him. "-should be with someone who can share things with you. I'm no good at partying, or drinking, or sex or-" "Stop Mark." He interrupts again. I ignore it again. "-or even love altogether. I don't even think I am capable of it. I- " "SHUTTUP MARK!" he yells and I stop. He looks directly at me but I can't meet his gaze.  
  
"Listen to me." My pessimistic mind is thinking 'good luck with this one.' He forces my chin up in his palm to look at him and to make me see the actual love in his eyes.  
  
"I don't choose people for what they are. That's complete bullshit. I've loved you since the very beginning only because you ARE mark. And as far as I am concerned, we have the most important thing in common. We ONLY want each other, I don't care what you say."  
  
Is Roger crying? I've seen him cry once before and that was when he said goodbye to me when he left for Santa-oh. It hit me. It was a hard emotional hit. I think this man that I had gawked over for years, and happened to be my best friend, did love me. I suddenly do not feel like the usual naïve and negative Mark I just was. I grab Roger by the neck and kiss him. As much as I could before we both needed to breathe.  
  
"Do you believe me now?" he asks, still breathing deep. We are always sarcastic with each other; I use that to my advantage now.  
  
"No, not yet." I respond, knowing it will lighten the mood and probably get him to kiss me again. Always a plus.  
  
I was right. He laughs and tickles my stomach. Falling onto my back, I pull him by his shirt on top of me. His muscular dense form crushing me into the sand, I have a feeling like never before. I have the man I always dreamed about. How did I get this lucky? 


	5. im sorry for the doors i opened up

A/n: ah! I don't know what the problem is with this but the spacing and dialogue keeps getting screwed up! ::throws computer out window:: I fixed it to the best of my ability and I'm still working on cpt. 6 and struggling to do so, so bare with me. thanks for the support and reviews!!  
  
  
  
The next thing I know, the sun is shining and my hand is in grainy stuff. Oh, right, sand. I quickly recap the night's events and smile into Roger's chest.  
  
"Oh my god, it wasn't a dream." Apparently, I said this aloud because Roger laughed. "No, not at all." He kisses me sweetly on my forehead and pushes the hair from my face. My head was rising drastically; a sign that Roger was laughing to himself like he usually did as a hint he wanted to tell you something.  
  
"What's so funny?" I ask and pull closer to him and rest my arm on his waist.  
  
"You make some interesting noises in your sleep." He informs me of this now?! I spring up to a sitting position.  
  
"Interesting? Interesting how?" I am scared. What do I do in my sleep? Nobody has ever told me this before. Wait.who would? He is laughing at me. Not a sure sign.  
  
"Let's just say I sure as hell hope it was me you were dreaming about."  
  
Of course I was, after last night who else would be on my mind. "Yeah, it wa-" I finally caught on. "Oh no." I feel my face getting hot. What do I say? "I'm sorry" was the only thing I can think of. He shakes his head and smiles. "Trust me, don't be." I do not think I have ever been this embarrassed. "Was I any good?" I shoot him a look. Fuck, why not make the best of the situation. "You have no idea."  
  
I sit on his stomach and kiss him, refusing to stop until I had to. Unfortunately, that time came too soon. Someone was clearing their throat above us. "Shit" we both mutter as if it were choreographed. I climb off Roger and he sits up. Beach security, not what the morning in my dream consisted of. Roger suddenly looks sick and I look down.  
  
"I am afraid you two boys-or whatever you are-have to leave."  
  
With this disgusting homophobic asshole's comment Roger and I both jerk our heads upward to look at him. He jumps up, me staying where I am.  
  
"Good morning to you too, and no we don't have to leave." He glares, I stand up next to Roger and grab his hand. Security asshole gets very uncomfortable. My intentions exactly.  
  
"Yes you do and will be fined also, twenty dollars for each of you." He pulls out a pen and ticket.  
  
"This is bullshit!!" Roger starts going mad. "You cannot fucking kick me out and make me pay for kissing someone I love!"  
  
"Roge, stop." I step in front of him and try to reason with the officer. "Sir, would you please tell us why we are serving these consequences other than the fact that you are ignorant and homophobic?" I speak calmly but he does not look pleased.  
  
"You do not have a residence here." He informs us without looking up from his pad and pen. I was defeated I suppose.  
  
"That is where you are wrong again." Roger chimes in. Now who wins?  
  
"Are you and.him currently staying here?" He gestures toward me.  
  
"No, but there's a home that's in my father's name." They continue trying to beat each other out.  
  
"Well, he must be staying in it for you to be here."  
  
"That would be difficult, don't you think, considering he is buried six feet underground and all?"  
  
I see the anger and furiousity in Roger's face. The officer pauses for a moment but then persists.  
  
"I am sorry, but you still are leaving and are still required to pay the fine."  
  
This is clearly not right. I was getting into this now, there is no way that I am paying for this crap.  
  
"This cannot be correct sir, I don't think-"  
  
"Give me the goddamned tickets" Roger snatches the papers from the man's hand, picks up his stuff. Handing me my camera, he dragged me back to the car.  
  
"It's not fucking worth it." This remark stabbed me more than it should have.  
  
"So I'm not worth it to you either, am I?" I knew this was not true. It was just a kickoff to the point that I was trying to get at.  
  
"What are you talking about Mark?" his tone sharply bites me. We throw our stuff in and get into the car before I begin my lecture.  
  
"You're not going to fight this, are you?" I really am hurt. Maybe I take things too personally. Either way, I feel like I was misled.  
  
"Arguing with a prick over something so ridiculous did not seem worth it to me." I pull away when he attempts to rub the back of my neck from the driver's seat.  
  
"What's wrong?" What is NOT wrong with this situation?  
  
"What's wrong? That man is wrong and you are just letting him win? You have to show him that you were the one who was right so at least he learns something!"  
  
He groans. "I don't have to explain who I am and who I love to anyone but you." he says coldly, just wanting to ignore the situation and skip to 'happily ever after.' He pulled this façade with April and Mimi and I'm not watching it again. It's bullshit.  
  
"Always taking the easy way out, aren't you Roger?"  
  
I knew after I said this that I should not have. His face turns to ice. My body suddenly is thrusted against the window when he jerks the car to the side of the highway where there is a small rest area. He puts the car in park and turns off the engine. I never thought that silence could hurt so much.  
  
"What the fuck, Mark. If it is that big of a deal then I will find a way to pay for both tickets myself."  
  
He doesn't get it still. I'm not surprised if steam was coming out of my ears at this point.  
  
"You just proved my point! When April died you left ME to claim her fucking body because you didn't think you could."  
  
I saw that look of death in his eye but kept pushing.  
  
"You shut down and waited for us to bring you around again. Mimi's dying and you're angry at life. You leave us here while you are making things better in Santa Fe. You break up with Mimi and again, I have to spend the time with her to make sure she doesn't kill herself too. Then she dies and you don't even go to the fucking funeral. JESUS CHRIST ROGER! You can't even take your own damn AZT to keep you alive, or would you rather just die and take the easy way out again?"  
  
I was so worked up and yelling so much I didn't even realize that I was crying. He was looking straight ahead through the glass windshield.  
  
"Fuck you." he says and it felt like I had just been shot. He was still and so was I. As much as I wanted to apologize and take back all I said, I couldn't. I knew he would not accept it either. All I really wanted to do was kiss the sweet lips that got us into this whole mess in the first place. In the back of my mind, though, I knew that there was truth in what I had said. I didn't need to go that far, that much I knew, but essentially, I was right. I think Roger knew it too, for he had nothing to say. He pulls the car out and after that not a word was said. The hours home were spent alone with my thoughts and the silence that get even more painful. 


	6. and now i think about him as he was when...

A/n: I FINALLY got a chance to type this up. It was a miracle. Now the next project is taking time to write! ::winks:: reviews always work! So even if you don't like the story, review for my sake so I can get motivated! Thank you! I only love them, not own them. I don't think anyone in their right mind would let me anyway.  
  
When we got home I take my guitar out of the car as soon as I turn off the ignition. Mark can take his own shit and for all I care he can take it and shove it wherever the hell he wants. I've never felt this angry, more hurt and disappointed all at the same time. Who knows how I even drove home, I was so worked up my vision was blurred. Now I'm laying on my bed crying like a fucking baby. Why does he do this to me?  
  
I think he's still out in the car. Good, I hope he feels bad that son of a bitch. The other part of me is saying 'go out there, apologize, and sweep him off his feet.' At least I'm beginning to think sensibly. Reflecting on the morning's events is not what I want to do right now. My eyes throb from the built up tears that this is causing me.  
  
It must have been a good thirty minutes of me pounding my pillow before I hear the door to the loft open. I'm not dealing with him right now. He can't see me crying. I turn my back to the door and pretend to be sleeping. The door to my room creaks as it is ever so slowly opening. I'm doing as much as I can to stop my body from shaking.  
  
"Roger?" I hear him whisper my name. I haven't heard his voice since he was yelling at me. It was so much more beautiful, peaceful, loving, and MARK when he was this gentile. It sounds like he has been crying too. As much as I want to turn to him and hold him, I don't, I won't. The last thing I want to do is fight with him again. I would cool off some more before I talk to him. I'm talking responsibly, something I know I do not deal with well. When he said all of that in the car I was not furious because of his point. I know I was wrong, it took me a lot of pain and dead quiet to realize it, but I would rather not deal with that. If I knew that it would be causing me this I would have though. Mark knows this, and he knows that I do too. This lack of taking the initiative and having courage is a flaw I have and something I need to work on despite my stubborn attitude. If he loves me as much as he said he does then he would help me work on the problem instead of throwing a horrific past in my face.  
  
After I feel his eyes on me for a minute he sighs before exiting from under my door frame. I think of leaving this hell hole for a while and finding an old friends' place to crash at. Wait.that would do a lot of good. Nice idea Davis, prove his point.  
  
I love him. I want to fix this entire morning for him. That much I will do. I suppose it is the least I can do. Tomorrow I'll take Mark and go to the police station and demand that the ticket is cleared. For now I'm not leaving my room.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
The next thing I know there is a banging on the door to the loft.  
  
'Shit, when did I fall asleep?'  
  
I stumble over crap on the floor on my way to answer the door. It's Joanne. Perfect.  
  
"Jesus Christ, what the hell happened to you?"  
  
It takes me a second to realize that she is probably referring to my swollen eyes from a mix of crying and sleeping.  
  
"Thanks." I stand out of the way, letting her in.  
  
"What time is it?"  
  
"Six o'clock. I walked here to get my car back and see how things went."  
  
She sits down on the couch and I'm in the kitchen making coffee, wondering where Mark is. Almost freakishly at the same time I spot a note on the table.  
  
"FUCK!"  
  
I must have scared Joanne, she jumps out of her seat.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Mark's gone." I feel a blend of every negative emotion there is when I read the letter aloud to her.  
  
"Roge- I figured you needed time to rethink falling in love with me, and 'us' in general for that matter. I'll be back in a few days. Don't try to find me, I'm okay. Take as much time as you need."  
  
When I look up her eyebrows are raised, it was scary. I know what she is thinking, 'what the hell did you do to him?' I'll be nice and spare her the breath. Sitting on the table with the note in my hand I explain every detail as I remember it as she stares at me. I finish and wait for her to talk.  
  
"First of all, he'll be back. Don't you worry your cute little ass. Second of all, today is Sunday, but tomorrow at noon I'll meet you at the police station to clear this up. Then when he gets back you two love birds will make up, I don't want to know how, and everything will be fabulous."  
  
She makes it sound so easy.  
  
"What the hell good are you going to do? No offense, but do you think you're God or something? I'm telling you this guy was intimidating or else I would have squared it away right there!"  
  
"I'm a lawyer you jackass." Now I feel like an idiot. "And I happen to know that the officer I plan on reasoning with is quite understanding."  
  
I'm suddenly feeling more optimistic and even manage to smile for the first time since last night.  
  
"Now can I have my car back?"  
  
I get her keys and kiss her on the cheek before she leaves.  
  
"Thanks."  
  
"You owe me big time." 


	7. when someone like you finds someone like...

A/n: As I said, this is taking me a long time to update. And thank you JOY for your devoted reviews! They really help. It seems when there is sappy m/r I write quickly, but since this is at a harsh area, it depresses me. ::sigh:: how I love these boys. I wish they were mine...::thinks devilishly::  
  
"Scarsdale-next stop."  
  
That damn intercom, I was almost asleep too. I think I am the only one who can manage to sleep on a New York subway. I am on them all of the time and when I am either I'm sleeping or filming. Right now exhaustion has overtaken me from walking around the village all day, thinking of a place to go. When I decided to go stay at my old friend's house I went back to tell Roger but he was asleep. I thought about just up and leaving, not telling him where I will go or when I will be home. That would only cause him worry and pain plus more problems for us when I get back. I was honestly hoping for the opposite.  
  
Anger is not even existent in me anymore. Instead, I am filled with guilt and desperation. Roger gave me the most beautiful gift that I have never had before; he truly loved me. I hope that he still does. He should have just wrapped himself in paper and put a bow on his head. Not only would I get him but I would also get to "unwrap" him.  
  
NO! Stop thinking about him like that, not a good time.  
  
They say that guys think about sex all the time. Well triple that when the one you want is mad at you and you will figure out my current hormonal rate.  
  
Who ever thought that this would even be happening? Honestly, not me. Had I always had a crush on him? Hell yes. Not only was he physically attractive but you put his little Roger quirks with that and he is WOW. The way he runs his fingers through his iced hair when he was mad, how he constantly moves his arms and hands when he is nervous, and the way he smiles with his eyes when he is happy. I thought about these things. I thought about them too much, but I never considered having these feelings returned, forget about a relationship. I only dreamed with no intention of ever making this known to him. Sure, he probably could tell that I was attracted to him. He has seen my taste in guys; he lives with me for Christ's sake.  
  
I love him, I always have. It was not a big deal to me, it was merely there-like a given. I was not about to kiss him and make it into some huge melodramatic scene. That was certainly not my style.  
  
I think that is probably why I took the incident this morning so seriously. Roger loving me as I had only fantasized about for so long was so surreal. I wanted to make it all a dream because I knew it was too good to be true. I was scared; blowing that out of proportion seemed to be the only way to go. He did not deserve what has happened to him in the past and he certainly did not deserve me holding it against him when he was finally opening up to me.  
  
There is no past, though, so now I can only give him time, then go back, and apologize. In the meantime, I will be thinking about him, praying that he will take me back and we can actually start what was meant to be.  
  
The buzzing and sudden jerk of the train puts a damper on my thoughts. The doors open and I step out into the only town that I knew for so long. 


End file.
